Me, I am a Thief
by Lady Storm
Summary: [Oneshot] In life, there are many things you can steal. But it's not stealing if it's given. SasuNaruSasu.


**Title: **Me, I am a Thief  
**Pairing: **SasuNaru? NaruSasu?  
**Genre: **Tragedy, romance? One-Shot.  
**Warnings: **Spoilers, Character death, Angst  
**Rating: **PG-13 / T**  
Beta:** None  
**Soundtrack:** Sarah Slean – 'Me, I am a Theif' & Idir – 'A Vava Inou Va'  
**Summary:** In life there are endless possibilities to what you can steal. But it's not stealing if it's given.

**Author's Note: **No, no no no. I wanted something sweet but my hate for OOCness wouldn't let me. So here we go, with as much fluff as this ridiculous pairing will allow. Which is… er… sadly lacking, truthfully. I've dumped some lines in there that some might not understand. Think about it, read it over in order (you don't really have to), read the summary again, or just let me know I'm delusional.

* * *

…_Me, I am a thief / I'm a falling star / I'm a photograph taken / From where you are_

V.

Some footsteps later he can't believe it, but here he is, and it's too late now, and it's not like he wants to back down anyway. Besides, he's been waiting for this for _years._

He opens the door and is faced with nothing but black, but he isn't sure if it's the room itself or just his disbelieving eyes. Too good to be true, he almost thinks, but the weight on his neck reminds him that this is absolutely, undeniably, heart-wrenchingly real.

He steps in. 

II.

A shuriken dodged and another one deflected. He dodges a jab to his jugular and offers his own retaliation in the form of a kick to the gut. A stream of kunais with deadly purpose is intervened by his blade, and he cuts through flesh, bone and flesh again, cutting off an arm. A quick movement of hands and his pursuer has been reduced to what it once was – nothing. If there was screaming, it was lost to the roar of the thoughts in his head. He wastes no time in finishing the other, who thought that maybe sneaking up behind him would be a good idea. He coldly corrects him, pauses to swipe something off his shoulder, and retrieves his mask.

He leaves the bodies behind. Let them know. Let them tell his story.

Now that his mask is back in place, he feels a small tendril of security in being faceless, just another predator in these woods. For he is a hunter, and he approaches his prey.

III.

He spies the grand facade, an emblem he feels he knows too well. It holds what he wants and what he wishes he didn't need -- it could have saved them all.

Restraining his chakra to avoid detection, he blends into his surroundings, into his new territory. Something throbs at his neck, and he knows without a doubt, it is here.

He has arrived.

IV.

From here on out it's hit and miss, touch and go. There's nothing else he can do but open the doors one by one, because of that damn fragile web, that sensitive barrier that covers _every single_ fucking thing. He thinks with a hiss, they've gotten so good at this.

He steals down the corridor, clearing his head but he cannot clear his heart. He lets his neck do the thinking instead, letting it acknowledge his demands. Look. Where?

There.

I.

He cannot think of anything else. A terrible goal reached, a leader killed, and their ambitions burned to less than ashes. On the contrary, he knows there are other ways, and maybes, just maybes. But a part of him cries out; I deserve to be happy.

If this is betrayal… then they had it coming.

He accepts that his life will be a tragic one. He almost doesn't mind anymore – the thought almost sweetly lulls him to sleep. He's almost fond of the idea. His life has been nothing but darkness and masks and what others have pushed onto him, but he has heard whispers in dark alleys of true love and selflessness and happiness. He has never had happiness, not really, only once, a long time ago when -

That's all he wants: happiness. He's got a pretty good idea of where to find it, too.

So he steels himself and steals some determination. Because…

Well, he was never one to let others decide things for him.

VI.

He can tell that the other is surprised to see him. He almost laughs - It's my turn now.

There is a hiss of steel, a whisper of cloth, and a faint brush of lips. He cannot think of any explanation, save one.

"I don't want you to die alone."

A trembling touch and that's all he needs, his mind no longer houses any doubts. He knows they both want this. Their lives, they entombed such tragedy and misery, but he was found a moment of happiness and it grows and stretches into infinity. This moment, this infinity, who would have thought it would be buried in a cold room by the bloody edge of a blade.

And there is no need to whisper I-love-you, because they've been shouting it since day one.

0.


End file.
